#tin foil hat hours

[a-lil-strawberry]

Today we had a meeting at work about our insurance and benefits and I had my phone in my pocket, as one does most of the time. Now I'm at home just watching YouTube. I just got a government insurance ad randomly. I have never gotten that ad or any ad like it before. I'm 100% convinced that my phone was listening during the insurance meeting but the fact that it's specifically GOVERNMENT insurance that was advertised to me... I truly believe we live in a surveillance state and that the government at large is trying to gain 100% control over every aspect of our lives. Maybe we should bring back flip phones, but not ones that are new made now; like we should just dig up old flip phones and use those. Idk. We're all too addicted to our screens now though that we probably wouldn't do that... And if I'm right, then they must also know that

[polyhedraldreamgirl]

Some of my theories for Dragon Age 5!

I need to get this out of my head so here aaaare ..

Put your tinfoil hats on everybody, I did not do much research beyond what I already know and I'm going OUT OF POCKET!

Void, Retcon & Soul fragments

The game will heavily feature lore about/creatures from the Void.

The secret ending graphic pretty much confirms this idea for me (the black gaping triangle, also shaped like an eye), as well as it being a big unexplored thing in most of the lore that offers new angles. That don't necessarily need to be connected to alllllll the Evanuris stuff.

The speaker in the Secret Ending plus whoever their compatriots are are actually from the Void (at least originally), perhaps have been doing their Whispering and steering from there.

I'm certain they're going to hit us with a "these new creatures have been influencing Thedas ALL ALONG MWAHAHAH" line of thinking.

The secret ending at the end of Veilguard shows the Magister's Sidereal (who went into the fade & released the blight) Loghain, Bartrand, Meredith and Orsino, Corypheus, (Flem-)Mythal, Solas, Elgar'nan and Ghillai'nain all part of this plan/plot/progression. All of these people have at some point in there narrative made moves that could be described as deeply out of character. I'm especially in my *Leonardo DiCaprio pointing accusatorily* energy about this when I rewatched the scene where Loghain hires Zevran. He's staring into the fire, almost seeming like he's listening to something else. (I might be wrong, I probably am, but TINFOIL HATS BABYYYY)

The Void is essentially the antithesis to the Fade.

The fade brings life, energy, magic. The void holds death, magic-nullification etc. (See the mystery substance codex notes in Veilguard) Largely speaking, the Evanuris were "of the Fade" and the Forgotten Ones (or perhaps whoever these secret ending people are) are "of the Void". The Void that drove Andruil insane. The one the Forgotten ones were banished to (is this canon? I think so?), as the Evanuris were imprisoned in the Fade. More on this below in my Soul-diatribe.

Blood Magic came from the Void/these Void creatures. Perhaps was even taught by them.

Veilguard kind of defangs the whole "Old Gods taught Tevinter Blood Magic" by making the Old Gods (=Archdemons) simply voice boxes for the Evanuris because each Evanuris put a little bit of themselves into that Dragon. I sincerely doubt the original invention of blood magic will remain connected to the Evanuris as well, given everything they've already canonically ruined. I think the origin of Blood Magic lies somewhere else, especially since blood mages lose their clear connection to the fade.

Some or all of these creatures from the Void/speakers from the secret ending are the Forgotten Ones, or those the Forgotten Ones sought.

Yes, the forgotten ones were also powerful elves alongside the Evanuris. But they weren't imprisoned in the Fade, they were banished elsewhere. Their motives are different, as are their actions. Anaris using a Demon army kind of counters this theory, because demons are (ostensibly) from the fade, but what if the Void also has it's own kind of spirits? Once that are vastly different to those we know now? Idk spitballing here.

Anaris' last words pretty much confirm this for me, something about needing to escape from the Eye(s) - which fails, because of Rook. Wherever Anaris is banished to, something is there, and watching.

All of this connects into my biggest conspiracy idea:

Every mortal soul has two parts. One magical/mystical/spiritual Fade part, and one non-magical/grounded/earthly(?) Void part.

The original Elves who came from spirits would only have the former, but all those who were born of this world (Thedas) have something to them that decreases that pure connection to the Fade, another part of their being.

When the dead are encountered or resurrected, not all of them returns, although powerful mages are stronger (see Zara Renata's corpse scene with Emmrich). Emmrich states he believes in a "truer resurrection", aka the spirit that possesses a body is often, at least in part, the same spirit that belonged to the deceased.

Now what if...what IF that part that returns, those spirits that play out all of Thedas' dreams. The divine encountered in DA:I, what if those are just the FADE part of the soul? What if the soul has roughly two parts (Mythal splitting, the Evanuris binding to Dragons, Titans/Dwarves being split from magic shows us souls CAN split to some extent), one returning to the Fade, and the other returning to the VOID on death? What if Dwarves don't have any of that Fade Soul™, what if the rest of the world has a sliding scale amount depending on magic aptitude, elfiness™ and other genetics? What if the Veil caused people to just have a way larger amount of VoidSoul™, which is why everyone feels Tranquil to Solas? Because the Void would be anti-magic, un-emotion, un-life. What if resurrections through Blood Magic and other Blood Magic draws inspiration from the Void, thus tainting the Fade part of the soul, thus worsening the connection to the Fade? E.g. if the Veil fell, those with a high enough Fade-Soul™ percentage would be OK, while those with too much Void Soul wouldn't be able to survive/ascend (obligatory bible parallels mention, *cringe*).

I suppose three parts (Void, Fade & Earth is also possible, but I think the dichotomy would be more interesting.)

I could literally go on and on about this. It's by No Means a perfect theory and very much based on conjecture and vibes and most of the above proving true. But my conspiracy brain is doing overtime and I for one can't wait to see how Thedas' story continues and most importantly....

If weird grey masked entities doing influency heebeejeebie void stuff...

Why?

[mickandmusings]

you’re losing me

pairing: tyler owens x f! reader

word count: 5.2k

summary:

when tyler, yet again, forgets an important date while he's caught up in chasing, y/n is at her wits end. their relationship feels like it's dying, and he just might have dealt the final blow. after a series of rather unfortunate happenings, it's up to the rest of the wranglers to set them free from the disaster they created.

warnings: ANGST with a capital a; tyler is kind of an ass; halfway edited (sorry); forced proximity; not my most favorite thing i've ever written; sort of suggestive but not explicit

-

The ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall taunts her, reminding her that time was continuing to pass by. She taps her fingers against the table, her patience fleeting.

Y/N picks up her phone to check it for nearly the twentieth time in the past half hour. She had hoped to look down and see a missed call or an apologetic message from her boyfriend, who, at present, is an hour and a half late for their anniversary dinner. She had the table set for two some time ago: a home cooked meal in the oven, a bottle of white wine to split, and a candle lit in the center of the table. She sported a flowy sundress that tapered off mid-calf-Tyler's favorite dress on her-one that she just knew was going to end up on the floor of their bedroom by now.

Clearly, she'd been mistaken.

She presses the button on the side and the screen illuminates the dimly-lit room. The only thing that greets her is an empty lockscreen- a picture of Tyler smiling down at her as she looks up at him, taken over a year ago. She sighs in annoyance, putting the phone back down as the tear in her heart only grows bigger and bigger. She'd known this would happen, and despite all her efforts to avoid it, he had still forgotten.

She'd started two weeks beforehand, by telling him that she wanted to spend the night of their anniversary with him, alone. He'd agreed, claiming it was a great idea. That night, she put the reminder in his phone calendar and wrote it into the paper one that lived on his fridge. A week before, she'd mentioned it a thousand times: over dinner, during grocery shopping, and even during post-bliss pillow talk. He'd pull her into his arms and kiss her head, assuring her every time that he'd be there with bells on. Naively, she had believed him. Now, she was sitting alone at his dinner table in her prettiest sundress, feeling like a complete fool.

Her phone dings, and she feels the rip in her heart stitch itself back together for a slight moment. When she notices it's not Tyler, her shoulders slump.

The Tornado Wranglers are LIVE! Click here to watch now!

She's quick to click it, watching as it loads before she sees Boone's face in the frame, the top of Tyler's hat visible. Her heart shatters, watching as her boyfriend smiles and hollers for the camera, chasing a storm. She'd known there was a big storm forming for the past few days: when Tyler went out on a chase, she watched the weather as if it were a nail-biting thriller. Hearing him on the livestream had been the first time she'd seen or heard from him all day, despite his promises to be next to her this very moment.

She exits the live and stands from the dinner table, already knowing her boyfriend wouldn't be home any time soon. She blows out the candle and puts the unopened wine back in the kitchen, wrapping the dinner she'd made in tin foil and tossing it into the fridge. Despite her simmering anger, she knew Tyler would come home drenched, so she set out a dry change of clothes and a towel on the washing machine for him to see. Shaking her head, she bit her lip and swallowed thickly as she moved to the en suite bathroom and changed out of the dress, her perfectly curled hair wasted. She throws on her pajamas and her (intentionally not Tyler's) hoodie, climbing into her side of their shared bed. She plugs her phone into the charger and switches on the silent function, not wanting to be bothered as she wallows. Finally, she plops down onto her pillow and curls under the blankets, her annoyance slowly fading into disappointment. She tries to push the tears back, feeling stupid for crying over something so trivial, but it had hurt that he'd forgotten something that was supposed to be important to both of them. She feels asinine, like a dog with a bird at his door, only to be shut out. A choked sob slips past her lips, and she's done for. She curls in on herself, legs to her chest as she cries until her body could no longer take it, and lets her eyes shut for sleep.

-

Hours later, Tyler stumbles into his house, plopping off his soaking wet boots on the rug at the garage door. He's slightly dry from his ride home, but his clothes still cling to his skin, making him shiver when he walks into the house. He turns to lock the door behind him, shuffling into the laundry room that connected the garage and the house. He puts his wet hat on the hook, peeling out of his sopping shirt and jeans, finding a change of clothes and towel set out for him. He smiled, knowing he'd likely find his girlfriend passed out on the couch with the weather forecast still playing on the screen. He changed quickly, hands itching to pull her into his hold and fall into a deep sleep. As he leaves the laundry room and heads to the kitchen, he notes the dinner table set with placemats and silverware next to them. He gives the set up a confused look before shrugging, tossing back a glass of water before walking towards the living room.

The empty room stops him in his tracks completely. The TV had been shut off, only a black screen staring back at him. There had been no indication that Y/N had been here at all-the blankets were folded neatly into the basket, pillows still upright and straight. He looked for anything-a charger plugged into the wall, her current read on the coffee table, an empty mug-but found no signs of the girl he loved. 'Maybe she had an early night,' his mind tried to grasp an explanation of why she wasn't where she always was when he was out on a chase.

Tyler's hand wipes his face, rubbing his tired eyes as he stomps up the stairs to their shared bedroom. The hallway is cloaked in darkness, and he has to use his phone's flashlight just to make his way to the door. He turns it off when he turns the knob and pushes the door open, not wanting the blinding light to disturb her. He makes out her figure curled into her side of the bed, looking small. He frowns again, it was always guaranteed she'd be curled into his pillow if he was gone, often wrapped in some article of his clothing, if not completely dressed in only his clothes.

Wordlessly, he comes to her side of the bed to kiss her head, checking in to make sure she was okay. Moonlight from the window illuminates her face, and he finds his chest tightening as he looks at her. Tears had dried to her skin, and a frown was etched onto her face, even in her slumber. He pushes hair from her face, finding the strand curled, and kisses her forehead lightly. He pulls the covers over her more, making sure she was entirely tucked in. With a worried frown now marking his own face, he shuffles to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He opens the door and flicks on the light, the sight in front of him bringing his confusion to new heights.

A white sundress stares back at him, sitting crumpled on the counter. The puffy sleeves are deflated, and the slit on the leg had flopped over, exposing the other side of the fabric. This dress only made an appearance for special occasions, mainly because he couldn't keep his hands off of her when she wore it. She'd talked about it for weeks, she was going to wear it on their anniver-he stills-no. Tyler's heart sinks to his feet, hammering against his chest so loudly it rattles his eardrums. There is no way he'd forgotten. The unusual things in his home began to add up, and, with shaking hands, he reaches for his phone and stares down at the photo of her smiling back at him. She's standing in a poncho, drenched, but smiling as she uses her hand to point towards a barreling storm in the distance. Sure enough, in the slew of notifications he'd ignored, sits a calendar reminder:

'Our anniversary date ;) <3'

He plops down on the side of the tub and scrolls through the messages and calls Y/N had left, clicking on the voicemail she'd left, her sweet voice filling his ears:

'Hey Ty, it's almost nine, I just...um, just checking on you. I-I don't know if you're just running late or you forgot, but...I love you, see you soon. Be careful, please. Call me when you get this.'

He pieces it together quickly-the table set up for two, his favorite dress she'd been wearing, her hair curled just to look nice for him-the realization guts him. He had been stupid, so caught up in the thrill of the chase he completely forgot about the one thing that always brought him home. His brain recalls her excitement over the dinner she would cook, and he had planned on bringing flowers and her favorite sweets from that bakery downtown, hoping to charm that dress right off of her. He pushes his damp hair back with his hands, he had fucked up, and royally. The reason she hadn't done the things she normally did when he was gone was because he wasn't supposed to be gone at all.

He breaths deeply before brushing his teeth, sliding into the bed next to her and pulling her close. He'd hold her while he could, because he'd spend the next few days groveling for her forgiveness. He'd wake up early-clean up the dishes from last night, cook her breakfast, do the laundry, pick up groceries for the week. Hell, he'd kiss her fucking feet if it meant she'd forgive him. His eyes shut closed with sleep, and night quickly fades into morning.

-

Y/N is the first to wake, her skin burning under Tyler's touch. She immediately rolls away from his grasp, and the content look on his sleeping face makes her flame with anger. She rolls her eyes and stomps out of the room, purposefully slamming the door to the bedroom enough to rattle the frames on the walls. The noise jostles Tyler from his sleep, and he sits up in his bed, allowing himself only a minute of solitude before he realizes he's under the dog house.

Quietly, he stomps down the stairs, finding Y/N already standing at the sink, sleeves pushed up as she scrubs at a pot hastily. Her face is drawn into an angry frown, and the air is thick with tension. There's none of her music filtering through the tiny speaker in the window, none of her humming as she works. She's angry, she's hurt, and all she really wants is an apology.

"Mornin'," his voice is raspy, and he awkwardly hovers behind her, watching from a distance as she ignores him. He comes over and lightly grabs her arm, attempting to take over the task. "I can do that, darlin', you go sit at the bar and I'll cook you breakfast, yeah?"

She snatches her arm from his grasp and gives him an unpleasant look, only returning to the dishes in front of her as she shakes her head. He gives a deep sigh, stepping away from her to give her space.

Her silent treatment was always the worst.

"Baby, please, I-I know I fucked up, I'm just trying to make it up to you, let me-"

She lets out an angry laugh, dropping the pot back into the soapy sink with a shake of her head. Her veins fill with a fury she can't control, and she's almost blinded by her rage.

"Fucked up is an understatement, Tyler."

Her angry words were piercing, but at least she was talking.

"Y/N/N, I know, I'm going to make this up to you. I'll-"

"I don't want to hear your lies that I hear every time you mess up, Tyler. You're not going to take time away from chasing, so you can stop feeding me that same lie."

Her honesty stops him in his tracks. He starts to feel defensive, his own anger rising to the surface.

"Just listen-"

The bowl she's cleaning clamors against the other dishes in a loud fashion, making him jump slightly as she turns to face him. Fury is written across her face completely.

"No! You listen! I planned this for weeks, Tyler, weeks! I did everything, the cooking, the cleaning, the waiting around for four fucking hours! All you had to do was show up, and you couldn't even do that."

She swallows thickly, the anger beginning to fester into the sadness she'd been shoving down. Her chest moves in short breaths, and she tries to control her breathing as she looks up at him. He notes her teary eyes-she's not really angry, she's hurting.

"It would've been fine if this was a one off thing, but it isn't. You and I both know that." Her voice is lacking the fire it once had, replaced with a wave of vulnerability she rarely lets show. She pauses and wipes her hands with the kitchen towel in her hands. Her eyes dart across the room in thought, never meeting his. "First it was my birthday, and then not just one, but two dates, and now this. Every other time I just let it go, not wanting to start anything, but I can't anymore, because it just keeps happening. Tyler, I love you, but you're breaking my heart."

Her bottom lip wobbles as she takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders, trying to have a conversation with the man she was begging to love her the way she loved him.

"I'm not asking you to give it up, I'm just asking for one day, maybe every couple weeks? I feel like I sleep next to you but I never see you, and-," her eyebrows furrow before she takes a defensive step back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I just don't want to have to beg you to want to spend time with me."

Tyler's heart shatters. He fumbles to come up with the right words, knowing the wrong ones could ruin everything. He loved her immeasurably, and he'd been so goddamn blind. His mind raced with the dozens of things she does for him without being asked-making sure he had dry clothes after chasing, ensuring he had a decent meal every time he came home, tens upon hundreds of tiny actions that he had taken for granted. When was the last time he'd done something like that for her? The one time she had asked him, weeks in advance, to save a day for her, he had neglected it completely, unintentionally or not.

She looks down at her feet, feeling so incredibly small, invisible, like the man in front of her can't see her at all. She was tired of trying to keep their relationship alive all on her own. She wasn't in denial that Tyler loved her, she knew he did, but the last few months had felt as if he hardly remembered she was there. Her anxiety spirals-did he really love her, or was she just convenient for him?

"I know that chasing is important to you, and I love seeing you do it, but it always comes before me. I just want to know, will I ever come first?" Her voice is so, so hurt, and the girl he knows has withered away. The only thing that remains is the shell of her in front of him, pleading for him to just notice her. "It's okay if not, I-I just need to know. Because I can't keep having this fight, just tell me the truth so if the answer is no, I can move on."

Tyler's heart hammers, his own insecurity flaring.

"W-What? No, no, chasin' doesn't come before you, ever. Y-You know that."

She gives him a doubtful look.

"You do know that right?"

"Tyler, name one time that you've dropped everything from chasing a storm to do something for me?"

She stands leaned against the counter, arms crossed in front of her. His mind cannot conjure one situation, and he knows she's right, he'd never put her first. Not once. He had missed her birthday party just last month for a big storm over in Kansas, on his own. The rest of the Wranglers had even cancelled to be there for her. Both Boone and Lilly both had called him from the party to reprimand him, and he'd stayed anyways. Then he'd done it again, twice, just two weeks later. Each time, she'd forgiven him with open arms, never fighting him on it, simply accepting his lie that he'd never do it again.

She simply nods, waiting to see how long it would take Tyler to realize just how miserable this had been for her. He grows defensive, trying to make excuses for his actions.

"That storm in Kansas, w-we haven't seen a storm that scale since-"

"Tyler, save it," she starts, her voice growing an edge. "You answered my question, that's all I needed to know."

He watches as she literally and metaphorically throws in the towel, a somber look written across her face.

“I-I need some air.”

She says nothing else, only sliding on her shoes and slipping out the garage door. He expects to hear the jangling of her keys and then the roar of her car’s engine, but neither come-she’d taken out on foot.

Tyler ignores the rush of tears that threatened to spill from behind his eyes, his chest so full of guilt it feels like he might combust from one single sob. He stews in his emotions as he resumes the task she'd started-at least when she got back, the dishes would be one less thing for her to worry about. As his hands scrubbed at various pots and pans, he thought about the thousands of things he wanted to do to show her that he was serious. He wanted to run after her, to pull her back into his house, but he knew she needed her space, time away from him to think. Tyler wrestles with his emotions, knowing this could very well be the end of them, and it'd be his fault entirely. He'd let the best thing in his life slip entirely out of his grasp, all because he'd had his head in the clouds. It had been obvious to everyone around him, except him. How had he been so blind to her anguish?

He moves around the kitchen in complete silence, only the rattle of the dishes he's putting away filling his ears. He ponders over the dark hue forming across the sky, wishing Y/N had taken a jacket or an umbrella with her. He wonders if he should call her, just to tell her that he could leave while she stayed here, he didn't want her in the rain. He doesn't overthink it and pulls up her contact, letting it ring before he hears vibrating. His eyes turn to the direction of the noise.

Shit.

She'd left her phone here.

He turns his attention to the slew of missed messages on his own phone. Just twenty minutes ago, Dexter had texted him about a storm forming just miles from his home. The messages after were from Dani, Boone, and Lilly, all asking if he and Y/N were okay. His eyebrows pinched and he frowned, about to respond with a question mark before he heard the shrill ring of the tornado siren outside his window. His eyes glance up to see a darkening sky, heavy clouds sitting low in the sky.

He tosses his phone into his pocket before he's pulling on his still-wet boots and bolting out his garage door. A tornado was minutes from hitting here, and his girlfriend was wandering around aimlessly. She couldn't have gone far, his house sat miles from town, the only neighbors being a relatively empty home the next street over-the family only visited during the winter months, they paid him handsomely to keep their grass cut when they weren't in town-so he knew that she wouldn't have anyone to look out for her. His boots clicked on asphalt, his voice hoarse as he yelled after her, her name falling desperately from his lips as the wind whipped around his face.

With no signs of her appearing, his heart began to hammer against his chest. Rain began to pelt his clothes and it only urged his aching legs to move faster. His mind conjures images he fears-her stuck under a collapsed tree or shed, left for dead because he'd been stupid. They urged him to the neighbor's house, chest searing with anxiety as he heaved, still not seeing anything-no flashes of the simple dress she'd been wearing, or the cardigan she'd wore over it tossed somewhere. Before his brain could stop him, he was pulling the spare key from under the mat, all but trespassing into his neighbor's home, shouting her name. Nothing.

He slams the door, running a hand through his hair as he begins to panic. His chest feels tight, his mind growing fuzzy with the thought of her being out in this storm alone. The air only grows more thick, and a crack of lightning startles him. It sends him into taking off on foot in their backyard, even slinging open the door of the storm shelter to see if she'd hid there. It was empty, making him let out a string of curses to the sky.

Then, he hears her voice. He almost thinks he's imagining it, her tone is sweet and gentle, and he thinks he's losing his mind.

"Hey, it's okay little guy."

It's the voice he knows well-the voice she uses for animals and babies. His jade eyes turn to see her hair blowing in the wind, her dress wet from the weather. She's crouched down and attempting to move a stack of firewood from the neighbors yard, her eyes on alert she hears Tyler's footsteps crunch the ground behind her. She whips around, looking at him.

"Tyler, help me, there's a rabbit, he's stuck."

Tyler looks at her with wide eyes. His voice is loud over the sirens blaring in the air and the wind whipping.

"Darlin', there's a big ass storm coming right for us! Leave it! We gotta get down, now!"

Her eyes are fiery when she turns back to look at him.

"Then leave, but I'm not leaving him here!"

Her hands hastily moved large pieces of firewood, getting more and more drenched. She lifts a particularly heavy one and throws it across the grass.

"If you're just going to stand there and not help, then go! I don't need you hovering because you care all of a sudden!"

Tyler's heart shatters, she thought he didn't care? Of course he cared, but he was more concerned with keeping her safe. He sighs at her stubbornness, moving to help lift the firewood at a faster pace. She lifts a particularly stubborn piece, drawing her hand back quickly with a soft 'fuck!' He tosses her a concerned look but moves on working to get the firewood moved. His muscle flexes as Tyler throws the piece caging the animal in and watches as it bolts towards the treeline. He slings an arm around her shoulder as the roar of the storm grows closer, all but manhandling her into the storm shelter he'd just looked in. It wasn't shabby by any means, well stocked and clean, but small. He shuts the door with a grunt, turning to face her and watching as she digs through a first aid kit.

"What're you doin'?"

She says nothing, only sticking out her right hand for him to see. It's bleeding from a cut, tiny pieces of wood protruding from around it.

"Shit, baby," he moves to grab the kit from her. "Stop, just stop tryin' to do it on your own, it's only going to get worse."

She stills, looking up at him with dagger-like eyes.

"Look, you did your job. I'm safe here, you can go."

Go? Where the hell did she think he was going?

"I know you're itching to go chase it, it's probably going to be a big one."

Oh.

"You think I'm going to leave you here alone to go chase this thing?"

She shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time."

It's his turn to look offended, even though he shouldn't be. She was only speaking the truth. He knows he would be quick to defend himself, but he doesn't, knowing the hurt he'd bestowed upon her just hours beforehand. He lightly tugs the kit away from her, giving the soft, sympathetic eyes that had her hardened heart melting. He makes quiet work of removing the shards of wood, and moves to clean it with the tiny bottle of rubbing alcohol. She winces when it makes contact with the open wound, but a sweet kiss to her temple has her distracted as he finishes bandaging it. When he looks down at her, he finds her eyes already looking up at him. The look she gives him begs him to say something, to just apologize and say he'd do better, and actually mean it this time. He opens his mouth to speak, but it's cut off by a boisterous slam to the shelter door, one that startles Y/N, and she slides into his hold without thinking.

"What the hell was that?!" Her voice trembles.

"I don't know." He doesn't want to move her from his arms, but he needs to see what's going on. He kisses her temple again, setting her on the twin sized mattress that sat on the ground. He makes his way up the stairs of the shelter, moving to push the door open. He knows it's a stupid, risky move, but he does it anyway.

He pushes it forward, the door not even budging. He frowns, moving positions to put his entire body weight on the door, and the door remains shut. He pushes with his entire strength multiple times, before his mind draws a conclusion.

"It's probably a tree or somethin'," He sighs as he steps away from the door. "Probably got knocked down by the wind, fell over on top of the door."

"So we're trapped here?"

"For the time being, yes," He starts, coming to sit down next to her, her head resting on his shoulder. "But I'll get in touch with Dexter and Dani, maybe Boone too. See if one of them can get a truck out here and move it. We'll have to wait for this storm to pass though."

He fishes out his phone and begins to type, his eyes darting across the screen before Dexter's typing bubble finally forms into a message.

'We'll be there as soon as this storm settles!'

Y/N nods when he shows her the message, moving to rest her head on his chest, her heart racing. Without a word, he pulls her into his lap, his eyes now focused on her bandaged hand. She notes his concern quickly.

"It's fine, doesn't even really hurt. Just stings."

He shakes his head.

"Doesn't matter. You got hurt, again, because I did somethin' dumb as hell. Seems like all I've done for the past few months is hurt you. M'sorry, I really am. I fucked up, and I'm prepared to grovel for it."

She nods, biting her lip as she pushes a section of wet hair out of his face.

"You did, but that doesn't mean you can't fix it. Just, this time, promise you'll actually do what you say you will. Don't let it be empty words."

He makes an 'X' motion over the center of his chest-cross my heart-and watches as a small smile forms across her face. He notes it's genuine nature and it forms a smile of his own across his face.

He pulls her head softly under his chin, moving his face to where he's whispering directly into her ear. She leans into his warmth, still shivering from her damp clothes.

"I love you," his voice is a sincere whisper, laced with every ounce of emotion he can muster. She kisses the underside of his jaw, making him close his eyes and sigh.

"I know. I love you too, even when you really piss me off."

He lets out a chuckle, kissing behind her ear, a spot that makes her entire frame stiffen in his hold. He places another one just under it, making her pull away for a moment.

"You're playing with fire, Owens. What are you gonna do, take me on this twin mattress on the floor?"

Her voice is laced with sarcasm and humor, completely joking. One look in his now emerald green irises tells her he wasn't joking, not one ounce of him thought it was a joke.

"Well, might as well start my grovelin' as quickly as possible, got a lot to catch up on." He kisses the spot again, making her hand fly to his damp hair. "And I haven't done this in far too long."

His hands come to her hips, pulling her in even closer in his lap. His calloused hands land on her ass, and she yelps.

“Ty, you can’t be serious.”

He sends her a raised eyebrow. His hand squeezes the supple skin of her bottom.

“Baby,” his voice is just above a whisper, deathly serious, his gaze darkening. “When have I ever joked about taking you any time, any place?"

Y/N shudders. "Never."

"That's what I thought."

His lips connect with hers in a rough manner, effectively shutting her up.

-

A few hours later, as Y/N lies across Tyler's chest, her dress tossed somewhere, she's awoken by a sharp knock at the shelter door.

"T? Y/N/N? Hey, we're here. We're gonna get this tree off of y'all!" Boone's voice fills her ears and she all but scrambles up, face flushed red with embarrassment at the thought of them walking into the shelter to see her and Tyler both bare. Tyler only snoozes and turns over, and she rolls her eyes, he'd sleep through a hurricane-literally. She grabs his shirt and lightly pops him with it.

"Tyler!" She whispers-shouts, quickly buttoning up the front of her dress she'd found on the floor. His jade eyes pop open, shuffling off the blanket that had been draped across him for his modesty.

"Hm, what?" His voice comes out groggy.

"Get up, get dressed, they're here!" She throws her cardigan back on her shoulders as she tosses his jeans over to him, his belt buckle just missing his head. Tyler rubs his eyes tiredly, not quite awake enough for him to care about being completely naked.

Y/N turns to him to fuss, but she's cut off at the creaking of the storm shelter's door opening. She stills, face burning from a hot blush. From above ground, Boone, Dani and Dexter look down at them, the latter two jaws dropping and darting their eyes away. Boone clocks Tyler and swallows thickly.

"Ty, man, I am seein' entirely way too much of you right now."

-

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

@rebel-ezra

@fanboysfangirl

@mbioooo0000

[dellaliz19]

This is by no means the most important take by far re this whole Titan/Titanic debacle but I feel like it’s worth reiterating again: the 24 hour news cycle only serves to ramp up panic and speculation, and functionally serves as conspiracy fuel just to fill ad sponsored time.

Because let’s be real: EVERY single actual expert that weighed in on this was very clear that there were 3 possible options, and that death was the mostly likely option in each scenario, those being:

1) The sub was intact at the bottom of the ocean with:

a) no power and no technology that existed to get it back up.

b) might have had power but been stuck under a piece of the Titanic and could be dislodged, but that this was HIGHLY unlikely and that dislodging it could still break the sub.

2) Was floating on the surface after being able to ballast up, but that it would be incredibly hard to find the sub as it would have no way to communicate, no way for the passengers to get themselves out, and was WHITE, making it basically impossible to see by air rescue.

3) Had imploded at the initial loss of contact (the most likely theory), likely secondary to poor construction and damage from a prior descent, and the passengers had died instantly.

Even ignoring the idea that the “96 hour window re oxygen” was basically irrelevant given: the CO2 scrubbers likely weren’t going to function that well and that death by freezing or dehydration could also absolutely occur before then, the news media’s complete frenzy on that “ticking clock” was beyond transparently gross and circled all the way back into conspiracy territory.

Look I’m on the camp of “these rich people walked right into the risks of this and their families should receive a bill for the coast guard and public agency search and rescue costs.”

But seriously, constantly updating the “ticking clock,” bringing in new “experts” every couple hours to talk about some new way they could “survive in low O2 past that 96 hours” (seriously, CBC), hyper focusing on the idea that “if we can just find them they’ll be saved” (despite the wealth of evidence to the contrary) should serve as an indictment of the 24 hour new cycle and it’s negative impact on real, publically useful journalism.

Because you can’t fill all those news hours with people just repeating that iconic “Do you think they can be saved? No.” sound bit, right? You have to keep feeding into the idea that they CAN be saved, to sell the airtime.

You can’t report the actual news: that they still haven’t found the sub. Just relating that every hour on the hour won’t keep people glued to your channel.

But endless bullshit speculation will.

And so now, when they’ve found the debris, every moron with their tin foil hat already at the ready can scream about the “rhythmic banging” and “faking their death for tax shelters” and “well no bodies, so it didn’t happen,” well fed by the media’s absolute refusal to cover this in a real, productive way.

[wannabanauthor]

Tin foil hat time for BuckTommy:

While I believe Tommy should be the one to reach out to Buck, I don’t think that’s going to happen.

So here’s another fix it idea:

Buck learns how to fly a helicopter. He goes to Tommy’s house and practically drags him over to a helicopter but won’t tell Tommy what he’s doing.

Tommy goes along with it because he misses Buck so much, and even though he’s hurting, at least he gets to see him again and share a helicopter with him.

Buck flies them to Vegas, and Tommy is confused because there are no sports matches that day.

He’s confused until they end up in front of a jewelry store, and he’s starting to panic but follows Buck inside.

The clerk recognizes Buck and brings out Buck’s special order: two different sized engagement rings.

The one meant for Tommy is exactly what he would want in a ring, but he’s so confused until he sees Buck on one knee holding the ring in its box.

“Marry me,” Buck says. “I love you, and I want to be with you. I see a future for us even if it scares you.”

Tommy doesn’t give an answer just yet. “What are you doing? Why are you doing this?” He’s in tears and trying to hold them back.

Buck stands up and slides the ring onto Tommy’s ring finger.

“I want to marry you. I get that you’re afraid I’m eventually going to leave you, but I want to prove that I’m not going to. If you agree to marry me, know that I take this commitment seriously. Divorce is hard and lengthy, with or without a prenup. So maybe getting married will be the push we both need to make it work.”

Tommy stares at the ring on his finger. “This is a bad idea. It’s impulsive. Relationships don’t work that way.”

“An unconventional marriage for an unconventional couple. We don’t have to do marriage the way society says it has to be. We can create and shape it into whatever we want,” Buck says.

He pulls out some folders with paperwork and hands it to Tommy. “I had to call in a favor to get multiple versions of a prenup just to make sure we’re both protected if you want to sign one.”

Buck is still smiling at Tommy with love and hope in his eyes.

“Evan,” Tommy whispers and starts crying.

Buck pulls him into a hug and just holds him.

Buck hears some muffled sounds. “What was that?”

Tommy pulls back and wipes his eyes. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Buck has a huge grin, and the clerk claps for them.

Buck pulls out a clipboard with a wedding itinerary.

“We have an appointment at a chapel in an hour. Our friends and family are there waiting for us.”

Tommy grins and kisses him softly, almost moaning at the feeling of Buck’s lips against his. He’s missed this.

His heart beats at an unnatural speed when they say their vows in front of their loved ones.

Tommy gets added to the 118 spouse group chat.

They have a mini honeymoon in Vegas in a really nice suite, and they spend most of their time in bed chatting and having sex, and even they do leave their room, it’s to consume an ungodly amount of food to fuel their sex marathons.

Once the weekend is over, Buck flies them back to LA. Their first kiss in their home city as a married couple happens at the Harbor Station, the very same place where Buck first met Tommy.

As for their living situation, they decide to be unconventional and switch off every week. A week at Buck’s loft, and then a week at Tommy’s house. It gives them to time to learn how to live with each other at each residence before choosing a permanent place to settle.

Of course, divorce is always an option, but Tommy loves married life with his husband, Evan Kinard.

He also promises to never call him “Buck” again.

And they spend the rest of their lives reaffirming their love for each other, and working through the difficult parts.

Finally, Tommy can relax, knowing he’s found the one.

[herejusttosufferalong]

Now we have a video of Luke and A at the GQ dinner. Are we putting our tin foil hats on cause it was leaked just a few hours after the whole Nic favoriting that video? Not gonna lie, we're compiling a pretty decent list of coincidences at this point.

Interesting I didn’t even think about the timing

[sanders1665]

Memphis sat in the breezeway, the faint glow of dawn inching into his peripheral vision. The skies were heavy with dark gray clouds, promising rain. The air felt charged, as if the atmosphere itself was holding its breath. He stretched his legs, the coolness of the floor seeping through his thin socks. The faint aroma of coffee lingered from his first cup, but the pot was nearly empty.

He had been awake since 4:30, as he had been most mornings of his life. His body operated on its own unique clock, long before alarm apps or smart devices told him when to rise. This early hour—just him, the silence, and the stillness—was his time. A time to think deeply about everything and nothing, to let his mind wander down rabbit holes and untangle the questions that gnawed at him.

This morning, those questions revolved around UFOs. His YouTube feed, usually a buffet of content on the subject, had felt oddly uninteresting. He scrolled aimlessly, skipping past flashy thumbnails and clickbait titles. Lately, even the media had begun taking the topic seriously—a shift he found unsettling. High-level military testimonies, scientists with PhDs, and government hearings no longer dismissed as fodder for the tin-foil-hat crowd. Why now?

He leaned back in his chair, letting his thoughts drift. Throughout his life, UFOs had been a fringe topic, whispered about in smoky bars or sensationalized in grainy documentaries. Now, it seemed mainstream. People with credentials, power, and influence were speaking out. It left him with a strange sense of unease. Did these insiders know something monumental? Was there a revelation on the horizon that would shatter humanity’s understanding of itself?

The wind picked up, rustling the trees just beyond the breezeway. He squinted toward the horizon, where the sun was rising, its rays battling the storm clouds. He muttered to himself, "Rain’s coming. Could be a sprinkle or a thunderstorm. Who knows what it'll leave behind." The metaphor wasn’t lost on him. Change was like that, too—sometimes gentle, sometimes devastating.

He rose and wandered into the kitchen to make another pot of coffee. The sound of water filling the carafe and the hum of the coffee maker brought a small sense of normalcy. Michele would be up soon. They’d share an hour together over coffee before the rhythm of the day swept them away—his shift at the grocery store, her swimming lessons at the Y. A quiet, ordinary life in a world that might be teetering on the edge of something extraordinary.

He thought about the people at the center of this UFO drama—whistleblowers, scientists, journalists. He envied their proximity to the action, the thrill of chasing answers. But then again, Memphis knew himself. He was content here, in the breezeway, pondering the questions rather than chasing the answers.

The first drops of rain began to fall, tapping softly against the windows. He poured himself another cup and leaned against the counter, watching as the gray outside deepened. Life would go on, as it always did. But somewhere, he thought, something was shifting. Whether it was for better or worse, he didn’t know. For now, he’d keep watching, listening, and wondering.

[honeythispodcast]

this is a SUPPLY AND DEMAND kinda society in that u are demanding and we will SUPPLY. so. one hour episode dissecting Millions when? one hour episode dissecting Millions NOW!

In this special bonus ep we are digging into the glittery scuzzy glammy world of Hesitant Alien. We’re talking about the band breakup, liminality, and fame, and we’re dissecting a song which is certainly and unequivocally about jewel thieves. Gerard Way Is A Liar and you can hear us chat about it now on Spotify & Apple Podcasts etc etc !!

Topics include: Our tin foil hats, dreams, the Gerard “she”, longing and television, the No Shows bridge, Frank Iero as this week’s theorist, elevators going to 10, evil songs for evil people, Greggin’, dead rectangles, Lola!!, a line-by-line analysis of Millions, William It Was Really Nothing, and simply reading the text.

[jerseydeanne]

Hi

Hey Deanne,

Good to hear you are back and have bought a place. There is someone I checki n with on youtube who lives not far from Hudson. I believe she lives in Springhill. She does new, prepping, and canning videos. Maybe you can get in touch and help each other. https://m.youtube.com/@abgprepping

Awesome, awesome! That’s what I’ve been doing nonstop youtube videos. She lives up in Hudson which is about several hours away from me but I recognize the accent! 

We were going to move there until we got the monthly mortgage bill and that lake was a swamp! Frierson Lake look it up. 

The husband didn’t take the transfer so were still in SWF but we are moving to the woods of Punta Gorda. I know hurricane alley, but we are outside the flood zone and 10 minutes from the airport. 

Milton the Monster scared the crap out of us. the back end of the storm produced  some wicked tornados. Most might have seen the destruction it did a couple of miles from us. Newer double wides were turned upside down. 

We have never had a hurricane go from West to East, never like that. Put your tin foil hats on, I think it was manmade. 

Our little house was breathing, yep in and out, Oh crap on cracker. At least 20 homes lost carports. We decided to stop rolling the dice and moving to a nice block and stucco home. It’s like the three little pigs, huff and puff and it won’t move. I’m prepped and we’ll transfer my plants to it’s new location. 

I refuse the narrative of the Great Reset and I’m glad that the Nazi Klaus Schwab retired. Build Back Better or what has been is all a corporate communism talking point.  These butt heads couldn’t do this without our 401k money. 

We are not out of woods yet until Trump wins.  He’s not a fascist or nazi, he doesn’t believe or even read the project whatever the lefty loons are talking about. You want to kill your baby that’s your choice, but there are more options out there. 

Hang in there we are just getting started. The lefty loons know Trump is going to win they plan on using the military on US soil. 

It’s really great to hear from you, Love you guys! 

[muddyorbsblr]

me in chats joking around with @holdmytesseract: Tomathy where are you come out to play pspspspsps not even 12 hours later:

@holdmytesseract: omg what the pspspspsps worked??😳

besties it's time to put our tin foil hats on, i can summon Tomathy with pspspspspsps 🤣🤣🤣

now…let's see if i can pspspspsps our way into getting the plaid shirt into making a comeback 👀🫡

[sasheneskywalker]

batfamily fic recs which are told through unusual formatting

a hat fashioned from tin foil by discowing (ameliafromafairytale) nightwang @karakurachou – 8 hours ago jason todd is alive and faked his death so he could become robin: a conspiracy theory thread

Batfam conspiracy theories meet social media.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | No Relationships

occam's razor by BeatriceEagle r/SolveIt • Posted by u/Phalangefier 3 days ago

It's the fifth anniversary of Jason Todd's death

Today is the fifth anniversary of the day that Jason Todd and Sheila Haywood were murdered, so I thought I would post a write-up unifying all of the information that we have on the case. There have been a lot of posts about Jason over the years, but this case is so weird and has so many branches to it, I don’t think that anyone’s ever compiled all of them in one place.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

Send to All by kerosceene I, _______________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”).

-

The bats have a sex pollen release form. Because of course they do.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Batman Hits the Red Hood with His Batarang by redboard (Ink) Batman hears whispers of a new crime lord in Gotham, trailing blood and carnage in his wake. The Red Hood is skilled and ruthless, and quickly seizes control of the drug trade, seemingly for his own ends.

Red Hood, after years of planning, your moment has finally arrived. Why have you come?

An "Under the Red Hood"-themed tabletop game, for one or two players. You will need colored dice (or a dice roller), your imagination, and, optionally, a friend who has as many feelings about Jason Todd as you do.

(Yes, I'm serious. This is not a bit.)

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

#Justice4Gotham by Havendance So, uh, Hi. I’m still alive. I didn’t die of the clench (barely). I’m kind of sorry for disappearing on you for so long but life just got really busy and I didn’t really have time to chase after Batman and Robin anymore. I’m not sure how many of you guys still check this blog, but if you are out there, I’ve got a big favor to ask you all.

On June 27th at 7:03pm, Gotham City was hit by the worst earthquake the east coast has seen in, like, ever. And now we could really use your help.

[Or: When you run out of things you can do, there’s always yelling at the world from the blog you made when you were ten.]

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | No Relationships

Night Blogger by AnonDude There's a blogger catching the internet's attention with a long, insane, and twisted tale. The problem is, he seems to persist under the impression that he's just a random anonymous blogger looking for advice on his relationship. That's all.

QuillsNFrills: I like your first entry! But I'm a little unsure as to what genre you're aiming for here; it seems a little confused and all over the place. It's clear you want it to be something more lurking under the guise of a simple relationship blog, but is that…mystery? Thriller? A dark romance? Sci-fi/fantasy/magic (with the…whatever is going on with BF's head)? I'm also kind of wondering if I'm reading right that maybe there are hints this isn't a reliable narrator? Maybe that will continue…eyes. Anyway, keep up the good work! – April 15, 2023 –

BlueberryPancakes: this […] only continued to get MORE wild, and despite the "clearing up"…I still don't know whether to believe […] it's supposed to be an obvious red herring and this is all an Experience^tm, or whether this is really OP's life. – April 17, 2023 –

M | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | Tim Drake/Jason Todd

A preliminary examination of potential significant others (last saved by T. Drake) by Betty, Elf_Herself, Petra thefourthvine wrote, "I want the story where someone sits down and thinks that, and lists every single person in the canon (probably in some kind of database, with numerical codes and assigned weights for each category and stuff) and weighs all the pros and cons and finally, after a lot of careful deliberation, selects a candidate for the position of Significant Other."

This is the first step in that process.

G | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | No Relationships

[sn33z3s]

in defense of “if you weren’t a fucking asshole”

(what better time to write “meta” than hours before a season premiere. after all, style is dead. or was it that it’s just boring? no, wait, it’s toxic??)

this doesn’t have a thesis, it’s just some leftover thoughts from last year - mostly pertaining The Church Scene, because of course - and featuring some hot stan marsh characterization takes i guess

let’s start with the gay glancing at your ex-childhood best friend

so, this framing is loaded because it's the narrative of their whole thing: kyle chasing stan. stan usually comes to kyle's rescue in absurd (but solvable) situations, whereas kyle often has to fight stan to provide emotional respite. they're thinking of each other here; it's distinct how stan looks back, rather than this shot cutting at kyle. stan's explosive reaction is still pretty presumptuous, but kyle was, even if unintentionally, asking for stan's attention - which is typical

in a sense, this scene is their wordless language; the kind you share with said ex-best friend but it’s gotten worn from overuse, and as a result, you’re both communicatively stunted, so now that you’ve reached out again after 40 years, the first step to any comfort or solace is [the scene above] and a homoerotic spectacle:

well, i don’t need to tell you what that public spectacle is; you already know

stan leads his paranoid outburst in the church by accusing kyle of knowing something which would be impossible for kyle to know; in You’re Getting Old/Assburgers kyle also reaches out to stan, who turns him down, yet still asks that kyle basically read his mind and comfort him

kyle is not a stranger to demanding unrealistic things from stan as well, but kyle calling stan “asshole” packs that punch since contemporarily the fandom usually assumes stan as more emotionally forward or in-touch with himself. however, in the church, kyle is pointing out that stan is clearly repressing his feelings, desires, traumas, etc. and kyle has used a similar approach before:

in my last meta, i wrote about how stan is pretty firm in not instantly accepting kyle's olive branches. of course, the thing is, kyle's olive branches are bent sometimes, let alone how he approaches asking for stan's forgiveness before the broship splits. kyle doesn't apologize: he just expects stan to move on

(also, i love the "divorced couple" coding before we even reach Post-COVID.) anyway, the show clearly acknowledges stan as "agreeing with kyle no matter what," and the first time stan and kyle fight in canon, it’s a big deal

i always return to how i don't see kyle or stan as at fault in most of, if not all, of their fights. this especially applies to YGO & Assburgers since it's one of their most significant “break-up” arcs. still... kyle's "if you weren't a fucking asshole" in the church scene is so satisfying. (and 100% excellent voice acting on matt stone's part; the punchy delivery at the end of that line is what makes me revisit it often.) when i put my tin foil hat on, it does sound like decades of resentment built up. if this post had to have a thesis, it’d be, “here’s why kyle had every right to call stan an asshole in that moment,” but the Stan Can Be an Asshole, Too meta is for another day. after all, my last meta also revolved around the trouble i have with framing stan as an exclusively passive character (rather than predominantly passive) 

by “decades of resentment,” i mean simmering for kyle since, you guessed it, episodes such as You're Getting Old and Assburgers. i talk about YGO & Assburgers a lot, i'm sorry. but i was thinking about the church scene as i browsed the south park wiki on the official site: "Kyle can only deal with so much of Stan's negativity." (obviously, matt and trey themselves do not write or even moderate the Comedy Central studios wiki, so take all of it with a grain of salt.) i like that wording, though, and this other part of the blurb too: "Stan's ego can get in the way of their friendship [referencing Guitar Queer-o]" 

kyle not being able to handle stan’s negativity these days is more often harshly critiqued than anything about stan’s ego. that detail does, in many forms, relate to the stan jock characterization discourse, but that’ll also have to wait for another meta. i can say a couple of things about it to tie up this post, though 

yes, kyle fails to comfort stan in the YGO arc. at the same time, i don't think his positivity is always maligned. after all, the YGO arc isn't stan vs kyle, it's stan and kyle vs. growing up; this is their contemporary theme. and yes, for a kid, kyle can have that emotional maturity

Tegridy Farms and Post-COVID have cemented stan as south park’s protagonist – though, in my opinion, he always has been it, especially since Bigger, Longer, & Uncut – and protagonists are like, the character archetype that receives the most self-projection. yet this emotional angle is comparatively still a fairly new framing of stan’s character. now that this show is narrated in such a way that we see even more of the world of south park through stan’s eyes, fans watching may feel extra inclined to think of him as only ever depressed. but being sad is not all stan does and never has been

not only is this frequency fairly new to his character, i would go so far as to say that there’s a difference between the contemporary stan angst arcs and older episodes like Raisins, YGO, and Assburgers. being sad is not “natural” to stan (whatever that means), it is thrust upon him. most recently, this is randy’s fault. yes, we are meant to - and i hope that most do - sympathize or empathize with stan, but my point here is that he’s a little bit more belligerent and bullish than the fandom currently gives him credit for

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi I'm thinking about BBC Sherlock again, after all the great queer rep we're getting. And I want to scream in your inbox about it if that's alright.

And you'll have to excuse me because it's been years since I last read the discourse.

I just feel like, and call me a conspiracy theorist, that it was a bit of the show runners not wanting johnlock, and a bit of the BBC just not wanting queer rep in their big show.

Like the BBC has notoriously not been okay with LGBTQ topics (specifically on their news side, the recent trans lesbian article and the thing of their staff, I think specifically reporters, not being able to go to pride parades), it just screams some higher up going "nonononono we can't have a gay in our hit show!!"

Idk maybe I'm just a very-tired-of-the-bbc queer, on Terf island LOL but I just feel like the BBC has more to do with why we didn't get johnlock then people have brought up.

Like of course the show runners had to do with it, (I can't remember their exact reasoning but I know it was dumb), but in my gut and tin foil hat, I know it was some homophobic higher up too.

Anyway, sorry, this got long lol. I hope that made sense

Hey Nonny!

All good, and an interesting topic that we're always trying to work out, even all these years later. I lean on the "it was both Mofftiss and the BBC" side of it all... I've my own tinfoil theories about all THAT but it's mostly gossip and hearsay, so my opinion's kinda moot.

With regards to the BBC theory, though, I will say that, if I recall correctly, there was a big changeover in upper management between TAB and S4, AND the production time between TAB and S4 was about a year, with rewrite happening HOURS before filming, so like... eeeeeeeeee, Mofftiss isn't innocent in all this either. There was a lot of behind the scenes shit going down that I'm sure we're never going to know about until some NDAs expire, PLUS a huge breakup was happening that I think influenced a LOT of the decisions made. BUT that's my vagueblogging gossip I will leave at that.

And Mofftiss were really high on their own farts after the success of TAB, believed they didn't need a third writer because of it, and *waves vaguely* we got that.

Anyway. *shrugs*

[pyrepostings]

workplace whump: restaurants

regularly using sharp knives means sooner or later you're going to draw your own blood

Dull knives can also hurt you and worse (take care of your knives)

Ticket stabbers are sharp and a real pain in the hand to slam your hand onto

Some of the worst kitchen injures I see online and in person come from mandolin slicers (likely because the blade never gets sharpened properly)

Regularly using fire means sooner or later you're going to burn yourself

Burning yourself through a wet spot on the towel you grab a pan from the oven with

Grabbing a metal bowl that was left on the flat top that you didn't know was on the flat top with full force and dropping the bowl full of food on the ground and also burning your hand in the process

Hot oil splashing at your face

Dipping your entire hand into the hot fryer (I don't know how this guy has survived till now either but he did do it a second time apparently. Coworkers that should get their own whump prompt post)

Standing all day

Hot as fuck kitchen with minimal air circulation meaning the entire room is hot and humid and you have to wear long black pants, black sleeved shirt, and a hat (Healthcode+dress code)

Exhaustion. Imagine working 10+ hours 5 days a week and then on Sunday being required to work a double on your day off cutting your weekend in half and the one remaining day being spent at your parents house to spend mother's day (because you weren't there yesterday. Because mothers day is a restraunt holiday. Which means you work more not less) so good luck finding time to relax or get chores done before jumping in to another busy week.

Finding things you didn't know could break skin: tin foil seal edges of oil bottles. Edges of sufficiently fucked up cambros that should have been replaced a year ago. Freezer doors where the plastic has chipped off.

Hungry. Stealing food. Figuring out what food is safe to steal. Never eating more than a mouthful at a time. Chef gives you a mistakenly made side Mac and cheese. It's slightly cold but it's the best thing you've ever tasted. By the time you can actually finish it, it's been stone cold for three hours (deluge of tickets ringing in)

Banging your head on the pots and pans hanging up by the sinks.

Shucking oysters means shucking your own hand on occasion (record here is needing 7 stitches I think) don't be stupid with a shucker it's sharper than it looks.

Contracting something from sticking your hand in the dirty silverware bucket.

Stabbing yourself by sticking your hand in the dirty silverware bucket.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hello BPP, I’m new ARMY! I have only been a fan since hiatus 😅 and have only been in the fandom for solo era. I had been enjoying my experience so far and loving the music. But I am so confused by all the noise at present with FACE. I don’t understand what is happening with Youtube and the noise from kpop fans against Jimin’s encore performance. We have been streaming for more than a week but we cannot seem to go over 30 million? I know there is filtering happening and that it’s normal but it is weird because we keep going back to 27 million. I am not sure if you discuss stuff like these in more detail. Can you suggest an account to follow so I can understand more?

About the encore stage, I read your other masterlist posts and it does feel like a predicated response because of the success Jimin is getting. He is predicated to debut at #1 at Hot 100 by some accounts. I find the issue response to be very exaggerated though 😅 Would it be too tin hat foil if I think a big company is behind it? I had read an issue about Kakao being behind a targeted smear campaign against several girl group members a few months ago. Is it too conspiracy? I do not want to think unkindly or too tin hat foil if there is a reasonable explanation like kpop fans being threatened and being angry 😅

Thank you BPP! 💜💜💜

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Hi Anon,

Welcome to comeback season.

I’ll be brief.

Nothing that’s happening to Jimin is unexpected. YouTube has been excessively filtering, freezing, and then deleting views off BTS videos since 2021. It’s not something I care much about but it’s impossible to ignore. I think there are two reasons for this:

1. YouTube now has paid options and they have been pushing users to switch to the Premium option. In reply to many direct ARMY inquiries about missing views, the customer service reps often suggest streaming from YouTube premium accounts so all views can be counted. It’s possible they’ve identified ARMY as a group of people who will pay more if it means views are counted for BTS, but even I who spends most of my working hours as a capitalist demon finds this move to be just a little perverse. Views are views and paid views should count just the same as unpaid views.

2. I’m good friends with stans in many other fandoms and they don’t often have the same complaint. Videos from other k-pop groups don’t have the same handicap likely because there are less people at once watching the videos (ARMYs are a lot of people…) and because it’s the industry norm to use ads to inflate views. And more groups using ads even more than before, is also something I’ve noticed since 2021. This is also a scenario YouTube prefers because they directly receive revenue from k-pop companies when those companies buy ads, so every view of the ad is counted.

Like I said, records of views isn’t something that I think matters all that much for BTS today. But that doesn’t mean it’s right that it happens at all. ARMYs have limited recourse here short of getting a job at YouTube and trying to change their strategy internally. What I personally do is stream as usual (checking out their videos at least once every couple of days - I’m online often so that happens easily… I love watching them), and talk more about them with people in my life. Sometimes those people go on to check out the boys, and then who knows? YouTube might be deleting records of people watching BTS but now even more people are finding out about them. A win.

Some ARMYs are reporting this to BigHit. I don’t think that will have any impact since counted views are entirely at YouTube’s discretion, but if you’re inclined to take more action, there’s that option.

Think how so much easier things would be though, if BTS and Bang PD just did what most others in the industry are already doing. The goody-goody-two-shoes thing is sometimes annoying, but I hope if you’re ARMY you respect them for making these sort of choices for as long as they make them.

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About Jimin, I won’t say much. His in-ears may or may not have been working. I personally don’t care. Whatever the case it doesn’t change the fact that Jimin can sing. But remember what I said about Avoidance and Hate being the two primary responses to expect from most k-pop stans to anything concerning BTS? That’s all that happened here. Jimin had been giving jaw dropping performances, breaking records, and blowing nearly every metric of commercial and critical success out of the water, and the response from k-pop stans was basically virtual Ostrich head-in-sand. (Though many were streaming Jimin’s songs and talking about it in GCs according to some friends in other fandoms). But the minute they found something to mock, they swarmed.

It’s simple, predictable, and lame.

But there are decade-long structures that reinforce that behaviour, and the ARMY fandom is one that’s had to bear the brunt of challenging the dominant culture and behaviours. The casualties are reflected in all that’s ugly about ARMY.

Anyway, Jimin is fine. He likely wants to spend some more time with Hobi before Hobi enlists. I suspect it’s why Jimin cancelled his Inkigayo live appearance. But he’s more than okay. Didn’t you hear him on Set Me Free Pt 2?

You said you’re a new ARMY so please allow me to say one thing: pay attention to all that’s happening around you, but please try not to make it terribly upset you. Focus on loving yourself, whatever that means for you. For me, that means enjoying the music BTS makes as often as I like. I just listened to Beautiful Girls by Sean Kingston play after Sexy Nukim by Balming Tiger ft RM and I almost moaned at my desk at the pleasure in that shift in sound. Sorry if that’s TMI, but like, that’s the reason I’m here writing about seven guys from Korea. I’ve said before I’m not a writer, yet I’m here. They make me loco. Anyway, another good practice is to report the really bad tweets if you see them, and focus on Jimin, BTS, and the music.

And lately, Jimin *and* Jungkook have been making it very easy to focus on them:

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Happy streaming.

[charmfamily]

THE HYPNAGOGIC:HOUR PODCAST. EPISODE 58, JULY 10, 2023. (PART 0)

Transcript Below. Listen to the Intro Music if you like HERE

ERWIN: WwwWwwelcome back to the fifth dimension, conspiracists. It’s another Monday midnight, so slip on your best tin-foil hat and secure your phones, your Alexas, and all other Skynet-Approved citizen-spying devices in a secret location outside the room before you join us for another trip during the Hypnagogic Hour. I’m your host, Erwin – 

DYLAN: – And we’ve been doing this for 58 episodes now so everyone already knows who you are.

ERWIN: You don’t know that we don’t have new listeners, first of all, and two, it’s clearly a stylized intro. Don’t ruin it!

DYLAN: [He laughs] If you’re just now joining us, I’m Dylan, the same co-host that’s been here for 58 episodes. I’m also the more practical, reasonable half of this team and part of that responsibility is making sure we have paid bills, so without further ado, let’s kick it back over to Erwin for the top of the hour Ad-Roll.

ERWIN: We’re all interdimensional interstellar beings trapped here on the blue marble in corporeal Terran forms, and part of the universal experience of being an earth-bound meatbag is that sometimes you grow hair where you don’t want hair to be. With tonight’s sponsor, Bushwacked, you’ll be silky, alien smooth in no time, even in the most tender of your fleshy places. With their 5-piece grooming system at a reasonable price of only thirty-five dollars, no longer will you have to fear your private photos looking like Bigfoot’s thirst traps. Sign up today with code HYPNA50, and get half off your first order, plus a free gift of extra shave gel. Thanks to Bushwacked for sponsoring tonight’s podcast, and to all our listeners supporting the program.